Hermione
by tubazrcool
Summary: Hermione struggles through Hogwarts as the list of secrets she must keep gets longer. Eventually H/Hr. Rape!
1. Detentions

It had started in her first year, if she thought about it long enough. The snide comments, the sneers specifically for her. _Put your hand down, you silly girl!_ Now it was just the opposite, almost ironic. She was trembling. Without any means of defence, she was at his mercy; he was going to show none. He had his wand trained on her, pointing at her throat.

***

_She had just turned sixteen and had been having a rather good day. During her lunch break, Harry had given her an advanced Transfiguration volume; Ron had gotten her an assortment of sugar-free wizarding candy. They had had an exam in Potions the class before and she sat in her seat, eagerly awaiting her results. He had passed them to her dismissively, and she beamed at the 100% grade. She raced through the paper for any comments and found a rather long one at the end of the test._

Miss Granger,

Your aptitude for reciting answers verbatim from the text requires me to issue you a detention. The answers, however, were correct; therefore, your grade in this class will not take a hit. The detention will be carried out tonight at 20.00.

Professor S. Snape

_She had been utterly shocked at first and had almost dissolved into tears. When classes were over for the day, she had hastily packed her things and fled up to the common room. Harry and Ron had both asked her what was wrong. She angrily pulled the exam out of her bag and thrust it at Ron, who had been standing closest to her. Harry had come around to see the problem, looking over Ron's shoulders._

_'Er . . . Hermione, you aced it,' Ron said uncertainly._

_'Flip to the back page,' she said, a few tears escaping her eyes. As the two boys read the note, she cried a little harder. Harry had put his arms around her and comforted her. 'I just try so hard; it's never good enough for him.'_

_'Nothing's ever good enough for Snape, Hermione,' Harry consoled._

_He had held her a few more minutes and then they had started on their homework. Fifteen minutes till 20.00, Hermione started packing away. Harry did the same, offering to walk her down to the dungeons. She had agreed and they stopped outside the classroom with a few minutes to spare._

_'I'll see you later tonight if you're up. Goodnight, Harry.'_

_ She remembered how Harry had smiled at her, leaned over, and kissed her on the cheek, stopping to whisper 'Happy birthday, Hermione' in her ear. He had walked away without looking back. She hadn't realized she'd been smiling so hard until she turned to walk through the door and bumped into a very stern-looking Potions professor._

_'I'm not late,' she had said adamantly._

_'Get in!' was his only reply. Before she could respond by doing so, he had gruffly clapped a hand on her shoulder and forced her in. When he let her go, she had begun to massage her shoulder gently, turning angrily to face him._

_'You know, I was . . .' was her only retort before he had closed the distance between them and backed her into a wall, his long, slender fingers clasped around her throat. She had seen that glint in his eyes when hers widened in fear – it was all too familiar. She had given her head a slight shake, refusing to believe her professor was like that man. She had still wanted to cry for Harry, who might have been within hearing range at that moment, but his firm grip scared her too much. She tried discreetly getting her wand when his free hand showed sporting two. She swallowed and felt the bump slide down his thumb. 'What are you doing?'_

_That glint she knew all too well flashed again in his eyes and she cringed inwardly. 'You're smart enough, __figure it out__.' He had spoken those last three words so precisely, so dangerously close to her face. His thumb slid up her throat and under her chin, forcing her head to tilt up. He covered her mouth with his and she was shocked at how easily her body wanted to respond. She enjoyed the strength over her . . . _his_ strength. But how alike were they?_

_She raised her hand and struck the heel of it against his temple. He staggered back and she made a dash for the door. She had been surprised again at the man's agility. He had recovered quickly enough to stop her before she had even gotten a few yards. Like a trapped cat, he had sprung lightly to his feet and tackled her about the waist, the pair of them crashing to the floor. Too much alike . . . 'No, please . . . stop this,' she cried. He had paid no heed to her words, but took her there, on the floor of the classroom; she knew this would always haunt her whenever she went to Potions._

_After sliding her skirt down to her mid-thighs, keeping her legs loose enough for him to slip through, yet close enough it would hurt her, he forced his way into her opening. It was surprisingly slick inside and he wondered briefly if she was enjoying this in some perverse manner. 'Feels like our good little Gryffindor . . .' his first thrust into her emphasized this word, '. . . hasn't been too good.' He emphasized the last word with a second thrust inside of her._

_She heard the sneer in his voice. It was true, though; she had been tainted before she had even known who Severus Snape was. The memories of those horrible nights came rushing back to her as her professor kept thrusting slowly, roughly, into her womanhood. Her body was used to this, though; it didn't fight, that only made it worse. She felt his seed spill inside of her, relieved that it was finally over. She felt Snape's removal and heard the sound of a door shutting not long after._

_She reached her hands down slowly, and wriggled her skirt up to its proper position at her waist. She inspected her legs further to find an indention encircling the two. It was tender and she just left it alone. She curled herself in a ball, sobbing for a few more minutes, then sat up and rocked her body back and forth. She noticed her wand lying a few feet away and she hurriedly grabbed it, casting a cleansing charm on herself. As she did this, she could feel the flood of tears behind her eyes, building up behind the dam that was her façade. Every time she cast a charm on herself she felt like this; she would think back to the first charm she had cast on herself upon boarding the Hogwarts Express nineteen days before. That charm had kept her sleep-deprived for a full week. Even now, she still had nightmares. She stood up, and as she had done so many times, waited until she had reached her dormitory, and cast the silencing charm around her bed. Then, she let the sobs consume her being._

***

_Hermione had awoken the next morning, without realizing she had fallen asleep. She wiped her eyes free of the dried tears. Snape hadn't said anything to her about what was going to happen if she had gone to Dumbledore or McGonagall or anybody about what had transpired between them last night. On some level, he knew she would never let that part of her life be known. She cleared her eyes some more and glanced at her watch. The dial read 5.43 A.M. and she wanted terribly to just fall back asleep. She forced herself to stay awake and decided a nice warm shower would help with that. As she padded to the bathroom, she heard the four others slow, methodical breathing. She turned the tap on and undressed from her previous night's clothing. She shook herself free of the disgust as it dawned on her that she had slept in those clothes. She set the temperature of the water just a little higher and got inside the shower. No cleansing spell invented could replace the relaxed, clean feel of a nice, hot shower. She let the water wash over her a bit, soothing her aching muscles. She lathered some soap on a washcloth and gently scrubbed her skin. After washing her hair, she sat down on the tiled floor, grabbing the jar of cream. She took a little bit out and coated her legs. The cream activated as soon as the water touched it; she sat there as the foamy mixture washed her legs bare of the sparse follicles. She closed the lid to the jar and replaced it. Shutting the water off, she exited the tub and slipped the soft, warm bathrobe on. She dumped her clothes down the chute after casting a cleansing charm on them. Walking out of the bathroom, Lavender passed her and Hermione thought it best to smile in a morning greeting. She got dressed in her uniform and went down to the common room with her bag. She caught notice of her watch reading 6.11 A.M. and sighed; it was going to be long day. She saw Harry sitting on the couch, doing some homework._

'_Hey, about last night . . .' she started._

'_Sorry, Ron said he had planned some Quidditch practise tonight, so he forced us all to go to bed.'_

_Hermione nodded, glad that Ron had provided her a way out of explaining why she had entered the common room at 23.14 the previous night. She took a seat in the armchair across from the sofa and started working on Transfiguration spells, not bearing to think about Potions the next day._

_Harry hadn't spoken to her since that until breakfast, at which he asked her what was on her mind. She had responded by shaking her head and heading off to the library, thinking about how she was going to pass the day without dissolving into tears._

_Halfway through her Transfiguration essay, she looked up, surprised to see Harry staring directly at her. 'I didn't know you were here,' she said, brushing it off as casually as she could._

'_Funny, I called your attention twice. I just thought you were finishing a sentence or two on your essay before you were going to answer.'_

'_I was,' she said hastily, trying to shut the door on her previous musings._

_Nodding, though still a bit sceptical, Harry tried to initiate conversation again. 'About last night . . .'_

'_I know! You told me, remember? Quidditch practise tonight,' she said, not wanting him to catch her with her guard as low as it was right now._

'_Actually,' Harry said, trying to calm her down with his tone, 'I was referring to . . . earlier . . . last night.' Watching her confused expression, he added, 'When I kissed you?'_

'_Oh, don't worry about it. It was just a friend thing, right?'_

'_Right,' he agreed. Harry had been so worked up over telling her that he didn't notice she had already packed up and was heading for class until she brushed past him with a smile on her face. Feeling slightly depressed the birthday kiss hadn't come off as he had expected, he found himself in a momentary lapse of confusion. 'Right,' he said to himself, before heading off to classes with Hermione._

***

Here she was again; he had told her to meet with him more often these past couple of weeks. She had taken to putting up silencing charms around her bed every night in case she screamed their names in her sleep, crying for them to stop their advances. Each night she was here, the memories kept getting worse. Sometimes Snape's image changed and she was thrust, literally and figuratively, into seeing . . .

She gave a shudder of disgust as she felt her professor's seed spurt within her. 'Don't think we're over tonight, Miss Granger. I took a stamina potion before you came in.' He smiled maliciously when she gave another shudder, her body reflexively shrinking inward. Snape removed the chains with a quick flick of his wand and her arms fell down immediately afterward. Her knees groaned slightly at the renewed weight. She knew she shouldn't try to escape, knew she was too weak to throw him off should she attempt it, but she wanted to get away. The wand still pointed at her told her any attempt at fleeing would be futile. He walked toward her and knelt down in front of her, gently coaxing her down with him. She couldn't stop crying at the unfairness in her life. _Why her? Why did she have to go through this pain? Why did anyone have to go through this? _She was so wrapped up in her own emotional turmoil, she didn't register she had been crying on his shoulder for the last three minutes. The touches were so gentle, so different from the cruel, harsh thrustings from before.

'Why are you doing this?' It was a simple question, one she wanted answered. The worst thing he could do was to not provide an explanation. She realized she shouldn't have asked; the shift of his mood was abrupt and she was startled from her introversion.

'Must you know everything?' he yelled at her angrily. In his usual condescending, arrogant tone, he added words that tore through her heart. 'It's not as if I went where someone hadn't been already. Tell me, was it Potter? Weasley? _Both_?'

Before she could even answer, he had wound his fingers around her throat, woven them into her hair and gripped the back of her head. Adjusting his position, and with a few waves of his wand, he was leaning against an immobile cushion, his legs spread open. She shuddered for the third time that night, knowing what it was he wanted her to do. 'You hurt me, I hurt you.' The sincerity in his voice made her swallow any retribution she wanted to inflict upon him. She gave the biggest nod she could manage without her hair ripping out from his grasp. He guided her head downward, slowly manoeuvring himself inside her mouth. She tried backing up; he could feel her gag reflex kicking in, but only pressed her head down further.

She was having trouble breathing with his dick in her mouth, but couldn't lift her head up in the slightest. Her brain was trying to fight this and her lungs needed oxygen. In a desperate attempt to finally breathe, she reflexively swallowed and a rush of oxygen went through her. She kept swallowing, breathing the sweet air in through her nose. She could feel Snape's hand tensing in her hair, hear him moaning in pleasure, his loud exhalations; he seemed to arch even further into her. He was pushing her down on him faster and faster, and she was frantically swallowing him whole, wanting to get as much air as possible. The speed of it was making her a little nauseous and she constricted her throat around his dick, holding him there, breathing slowly. He arched into her once more, his semen coating the inside of throat, flowing down her oesophagus. She slowly lifted her head, uncomfortable as she felt it settling in her stomach. But she could breathe freely now and did so.

Severus felt wonderful after two orgasms, but the potion he had taken was enough for three and he knew exactly where to put it for the final one. He knew he was going to be exhausted come morning, but it would be worth it to have Granger struggling against him as he forced his way into the woman's tightest opening. God, he hoped he was going to be the first one in there. He summoned enough of his strength to stand up and position her where he wanted her.

Hermione saw him get up. As he retrieved his wand, she watched as he waved it in her direction; she could do nothing as her arms were bound behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and effortlessly picked her up, bending her over the cushion. She started to struggle, but he kept her there firmly. She heard him whisper in her ear, 'Don't even think about it.' Her mind kept bringing memories of the past summer to the forefront of her mind. _No_, she thought, she wasn't going to let him do this. She kept fighting his grip, putting her whole body into trying to break free from his grasp. His body soon covered hers. 'Fine, then take it in rough.' She froze at his words, but soon overcame the fear; things couldn't get worse, could they; she started twisting every which way, but he twisted her hands. The ache in her shoulders made her stop moving. She felt him position himself at the front of her entrance.

***

_She had just gotten home for the holidays when it started up again. He just could never accept it. It was his favourite form of punishment for what she did. He would get that glint in his eyes and proceed to fuck her bottom. How she hated it. After it was all over, she wouldn't be able to move for a few hours. No matter how much she screamed, how much she pleaded, how much she wept, how many times she begged for forgiveness, he wouldn't stop until he had shot his load inside her._

***

As Severus thrust inside her, he heard the girl scream, taking pleasure in being the one to make her do so. She would beg for him to stop this after a while. But beg she did; what she said made him stop dead in his tracks.

'Daddy, please, it's not my fault!'


	2. Watchful Eyes

**Title:** Hermione

**Disclaimer**: You guys know the drill.

**A/N**: I realise I may not have given you guys a heads-up on a few key pointers. Snape is still teaching Potions (Harry and Ron both got O's in the OWLs due to extensive studying); after the Ministry attack, Remus Lupin applied again for the DADA position and got it, with little opposing force from the Wizarding World; yes, the _Advanced Potions Making_ book does make an appearance; pretty much anything from canon is up for spoilers, but if it veers off in details, assume they will stay that way. I greatly dislike continuity, grammar, and spelling errors, so if any readers would like to point out mistakes they will be taken seriously and corrected. Thank you for your consideration.

**A/N 2**: I'll be uploading links next chapter to the class schedule and study schedule that I will be abiding by for the remainder of the story. Keep in mind that it's Hermione's, so Harry and Ron will have much more free time.

The first chapter's information, as far as the chronological order (classes and dates), is incorrect. Hermione's birthday was on a Thursday, so come Friday, she would not have Potions on Saturday. And Potions is on Mondays and Fridays. I will update it at some point to make the changes, but it won't be necessary for anyone to re-read it as I won't be adding any story-relevant differences.

**A/N 3**: This chapter is dedicated to mudpuddledemon for the wonderfully-effective kick-in-the-ass to continue writing this. Chapter 3 is on its way soon.

**Chapter 2 **(Finally!) – For clarification's sake, it's the night of 4 October 1996.

Severus stilled inside of her. He had wanted the perfect Mudblood for his own: she had blossomed from an impertinent, know-it-all little girl into a beautiful, intelligent woman within the five years he had known her. It was no accident that he had chosen to make his advance the night of her sixteenth birthday. He had relished in her fear that night; she had been so small and meek, but he thought she had had a different secret than the one she now told him.

He applied a few lubrication charms and slipped gently out of her, horrified at himself for having increased her mental scars, instead of creating them. He had read about the Stockholm Syndrome in some Muggle pamphlet and thought he could utilise the method to fit his madness. His intentions dealing with her had gone completely wrong; this wasn't right; it wasn't supposed to be like this. _Damn her father for screwing with his prize!_

Hermione opened her eyes when she realised what she had just said. _No_, that was her secret; she had never meant to say it, never meant to divulge the greatest horror of her life. She shrugged off her disgust as her professor eased his member backward and braced herself for a second thrust – which somehow never came. She felt the tip pull away from her sphincter muscles; another tug and his length was blessedly out of her arsehole.

She heard his voice tell her to turn around and, breathing heavily, did so. She tried to look in his eyes, but her gaze kept faltering; with a sigh, she turned her eyes sharply downward. 'Please, don't tell anyone.' She couldn't keep her voice from choking on her and she felt as if she were swallowing her tongue. The harder she tried to scold herself into not crying, the more she felt like doing so. The tender strokes of her professor's hands through her hair helped to assuage her emotional roller coaster. 'Please,' she half-begged, half-wept. 'I'm just . . . really tired. I just . . . want to sleep.' She felt him take her hand and lead her gently toward _his_ bed. In her mind, she desperately attempted to accept his proposal. _If you don't allow him to do this, he could finish what he started earlier. Don't fight, it only makes things worse._ She let herself be coaxed onto the bed, into his arms. She felt her breasts push into his chest, a reminder she was naked. She shivered slightly at the disgust that she was sleeping in the same bed with her professor.

Snape felt her shiver and he quickly drew the covers over the both of them. His arm lay protectively over her waist. He would keep her with him for a little while longer tonight. After she fell asleep, he would return her to her dorm room. For the time being, however, he would relax and enjoy the feel of her breasts moving sensuously against his chest as she took in slow, rhythmic breaths.

Hermione awoke, surprised to be back in her own dorm. She checked her curtains for any charms and found none. She hastily put a Silencing Charm on the bed-drapes and hoped she hadn't said anything aloud. The next charm she cast was _Tempus_, which revealed the time to be 9:14. She almost started, but the knowledge that it was Saturday had her sighing in relief. She felt her stomach start to churn and remembered the night's previous events. How he had entered her in every way possible, comforted her and hurt her, held her as she slept. How could she have slept so peacefully after what he had done? It seemed as if her mind had just wanted to wait until it was all over. Removing the Silencing Charm wearily, she got out of bed, knowing she couldn't pass the day with sleep. Seeing no one in the room she hastily unpacked a few books, thinking homework could be her alibi for not getting out of bed earlier. She dressed and gingerly descended the staircase, waving a good morning to Harry and Ron, who were already in the alcove and playing a game of Gobstones.

'You're up late,' Ron stated.

'Long . . . late night, and shouldn't you be studying?' she said, adding what she hoped was enough humour to her voice to accompany a forced smile. She knew by Harry and Ron's faces that they had been waiting on her to start the study group for Transfiguration. "Nevermind. We'll do the Transfiguration homework tomorrow night." She dragged a chair from a nearby table and set it down facing the window. 'It's raining again,' she voiced sullenly. She had really wanted to go for a nice, leisurely walk around the grounds to lift her spirits somewhat, maybe even stop by for a visit with Hagrid, their half-giant friend, around teatime. She had missed his bloodhound, Fang, over the summer. The unwavering happiness of animals had always surprised her; no matter how bad their masters treated them, they never lost their innate fondness for life and love. Fang had picked up on her unhappiness early on her first year here and she and the animal had developed an understanding friendship.

"I thought it was time for Charms. And then we have History of Magic," Harry advised. She appreciated his effort for trying to keep her on her own schedule and the ones she had made for them.

"We can study for Charms tomorrow. If we need more time to finish, we'll cut it into Herbology and finish that up after lunch on Monday instead. As for History of Magic, we can . . . work on that after breakfast and then after Potions."

"But you just said we were doing Herbology after Potions," Ron said. Both Harry and Hermione turned towards him with quizzical expressions on their faces. At seeing the other two puzzled by his statement, it took Ron a few seconds to realise what Hermione had meant. "Oh, nevermind, after _we study for_ Potions; I thought you meant after class. Nevermind," Ron iterated.

'You can be slow sometimes, Ron," Harry said with a smile towards his best mate. "But you get there. Look, if we're playing hooky from studying for a while, Hagrid's place will be warm. Do you guys want to go?'

Hermione smiled – leave it to Harry to know what she wanted to do most. She nodded and the three of them retrieved their cloaks from their rooms and left the common room. They headed down the hill, with their respective fabrics wrapped tightly around them, slightly shivering against the permeating wetness. Ron raised a bluing fist to knock on Hagrid's door, the wooden partition absorbing most of the sound, drowning it out with the pounding precipitation. Fang picked up on it, though, and started barking excitedly. Hagrid soon opened the door and the three were ushered hurriedly inside. The fireplace was roaring and they were all cosy within the hut a few minutes later. Hagrid passed them huge mugs of tea, impossible for them to finish off. The steam from the hot liquid, though, warmed their faces and soothed their senses with the aroma.

Fang came over and rested his head on Hermione's lap; she absently petted the dog, scratching him behind the ears. She blew on her tea and carefully sipped at the hot peppermint-flavoured liquid. She could feel her muscles relaxing and set the cup on the table. Harry, Ron, and Hagrid were immersed in conversation already and Hermione slid off the huge chair and settled on the floor with Fang. The dog immediately rolled on his back; his paws were in the air and he looked at Hermione expectantly with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

She happily scratched around its belly and chest, but finally found his kicker under his chin. After a few minutes, with the dull roar of the three guys' conversation buzzing in the air, Fang rolled to his feet and nuzzled her up. She returned to her seat and drank more of the tea; it had cooled a bit and was at the perfect temperature for her to take a deep gulp. The liquid immediately spread through her and calmed her nerves extensively.

She subtly took more of an interest in the talk around the table and learned that Hagrid had gotten a shipment of dugbogs on loan for class. Ron and Harry, who weren't in the class did a great job of faking their enthusiasm and were less than ecstatic as Hagrid roped them into helping him. Hermione joined in by making sure Harry and Ron knew to not let them get near the greenhouses.

"Dugbogs love to eat Mandrakes, so make sure they're kept contained if you don't want Professor Sprout on your tail."

"Well, that's why we've got you, Hermione," Ron said. "You can keep an eye out for strays."

"I have a lot of research to do for papers, so I'll be in the library tomorrow."

"You work on the same schedule as us," Ron continued. "When we're on break, you're still working; how are you not ahead of us?"

"She's taking two extra courses, Ron." Harry had stepped into the conversation and Hermione silently thanked him for taking her side. She knew he knew she was using studying partly as an excuse not to mess with the creatures, and she felt grateful to him even more-so. She noticed Hagrid get up – well, they all noticed Hagrid get up – and murmur something about Fang needing a walk.

"You all finish yer tea and take yer time. No need to rush." The half-giant whistled for the hound and the two exited the hut with waves and "thanks, Hagrid" at their backs.

"So, Hermione, what were you saying about Dugbogs?" Harry wanted to know as much as possible while Hermione was in a good mood.

"Well, if we finish the Astronomy tonight, then early tomorrow you and Ron can go capture some rodents, birds, basically just small animals, and that will keep them occupied as far as food goes."

Harry checked his watch as he took another swallow of tea. "It's almost 11.00. Why don't we go up and check out some textbooks for the questionnaire? And then tomorrow night, Ron and I will work on copying the relevant passages to parchment for notes. It'll be less to do on Monday, and we might be able to turn in early, eh?"

The three finished their tea and left the hut, waving half-way across the grounds to Hagrid to signal that they were out. The trekked up to the castle, scoured their shoes and the hems of their robes and pantlegs, and then headed to the library. Harry was the first one in as Hermione and Ron started bickering good-naturedly about the workload during sixth-year. He almost bumped into Snape and turned back, mumbling a "sorry, Professor." He noticed Snape's head turn toward Hermione, who quickly caught up to Harry. "Are you cold, Hermione?" She shook her head no. "You've got goosebumps."

Hermione looked at her bare forearms and sure enough, her hairs were raised slightly. She rubbed at them to warm them up and the three continued towards the Reference section of the library. Hermione led them further in to the history books and they selected several tomes for perusal. Ron insisted that they only get those with indexes or detailed tables of content. His luck, they were all immaculately cross-referenced. Harry and Ron both stood back and Hermione rolled her eyes at their hesitancy to face the owlish librarian, Madam Pince.

She checked out the books. "Why don't I just meet you in the Great Hall? I'll go put these in your dorm so they're not left out." She left for the tower to drop them off, stopping at the portrait. "Fiddlewhiskers." The Fat Lady swung open for her and she clambered up into the hole with the satchel full of books. She deposited them on Harry's bed and went up to her dorm room.

She alone had seen the professor mouth the single word that had made her shiver in disgust. _Tonight_. Thinking about it now, she again shook with fear. They would get more frequent if she gave in now; he would know that all he had to do was tell her when, and she would go to him, out of what, she didn't know. All she knew was that she had to stop herself from going to him tonight. She took and leap of faith right then, praying to the God she'd believed in since she was a little girl that He would help get through "tonight." She took a few moments to compose herself before leaving to get lunch.

She sat in between Harry and Ron, taking notice as Harry placed his hand on the small of her back as she scooted on the bench to get comfortable. He removed it quickly after she had settled in and she assumed then that he had only done it to steady her. A feeling akin to sadness washed over her and she simply focussed on eating. Then again, she remembered the birthday kisses and the extra bits of attention he showed specifically to her. They hurried their lunch to catch up on studying and went to the common room to work on the Transfiguration essay McGonagall had set them on Thursday in preparation for the double lesson on Monday. She had already read the book Harry had gotten her and it had gone into more detail on the theory behind self-transfiguration than the textbook did. She got her bag out of her dorm room and went back down the stairs, going over to their study niche. Harry and Ron already had their books out, as well, and were getting out their partially completed essays. Hermione shared the information from her textbook and they all incorporated it into their essays at some point, grateful for being able to re-organise the paragraphs with their wands.

"Finally," Ron said, setting down his quill at 14.13. He cracked his knuckles and tilted his neck from side to side, followed by arching his back until the pops reverberated throughout the common room.

"Don't do that," Harry said. "It makes me want to stretch and I'm still trying to fill in two inches."

"I've got five to fill," Hermione said.

"Yeah, but you write tiny," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably, badly wanting to stretch out to release the tension in his back. He returned to his essay and moved the sentences from his shortest paragraph around to others where the sentences were relevant to the context. Then he whipped up the conclusion and set his quill down right after Hermione. He sat up and arched, the cracks louder than Ron's. He crooked the fingers of his hands and yawned in exhaustion.

"Well, at least we get to move around now," Ron said, "we're studying nonverbal spells, which is _ever_ so much fun. Basically, if we do actually manage to successfully cast a spell at the other, we'll just dive away. It'll be simpler than actually trying to repel it since we won't be expecting it anyway. Unless it's from you, Hermione; you catch on faster than the rest of us mortals."

With their spirits raised slightly from Ron's usually droll attitude about schoolwork, they scooted the table, sofa, and armchair together out of the way and even managed to pair off separately with other stragglers for practise. It wasn't until Seamus' legs started doing the jig that they noticed Hermione had managed to cast the Jelly-Legs Jinx effectively without speaking. About a half-hour later, Harry could see Neville's face going red from holding his breath in an effort not to whisper the spell. Harry saw him exhale in exasperation and flick his wand rather vehemently to try and channel energy for the spell. He suddenly braced himself for the impact when he heard the word come out right before Neville shouted his name in a warning/apology.

He opened his eyes to find that the spell hadn't struck and whatever shield he had conjured up hadn't deflected it back to Neville, but rather absorbed it. The silver-tinted half-bubble slowly dissipated into thin air and Harry slowly let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Lavender was the next to manage it as she succeeded in knocking Ron off his feet. Neville followed, then Ron, and finally Seamus.

They were all starving as they ambled into the Great Hall for baked potatoes and salads. They grabbed apples to snack on later that night and spent the rest of the supper hour talking to each other about the trip to Diagon Alley later that month. When they got back to the common room, Harry reminded Ron about the History of Magic notes, seeing as how he was headed over to the window seat for a game of Exploding Snap with Seamus, Dean, and Neville. Hermione was poring over runic translations from the sixth century, and Harry and Ron thumbed through the indexes for passages that would provide them with answers to the questionnaire. Harry had taken the odd-numbered questions and Ron had taken the even-numbered. It was nearing 19.00 when Harry and Ron had completed a roll of parchment a piece and Hermione had finally set down her three tomes of knowledge.

They worked on their sky charts for the Libra constellation, mapping out its succession throughout the years. Hermione was the one to tell them that it would be around Scorpio's timeframe in a few years and they worked at the calculations until they all had something relatively similar to each other. Ron excluded himself to go to bed and Hermione noticed Harry staying with her and filling in the smaller stars around the constellation. It was getting on 21.00, and every other student but the two of them had drifted off to their dorms, when Hermione felt the conscious effort to avoid Snape and his "detentions" would make her eventually cave in out of fear. She slid her parchment and tools across the table closer to Harry's and moved to take a seat on the couch cushion next to him.

They worked in silence some more when Hermione softly said, "Don't let me leave."

Harry looked over, almost as if out of a reverie, and voiced his confusion most articulately. "Hmm?"

"Don't let me leave."

"Leave what?"

"The common room."

"It's past curfew. Why would _you_ leave?"

"Detention."

"Still? Merlin, Snape's a bastard! Just because you retain information the way you receive it? I thought he switched it from Thursdays to Fridays? It's Saturday. Is he assigning you extra?"

"Something like that." Hermione's voice was soft; she was still deciding how much to tell Harry right now. Not everything, but maybe just enough, and maybe he would only help her and not make a big deal of it outside the two of them. Maybe.

"Is that what he said to you in front of the library?" Hermione only nodded this time. "Look, Hermione, I know you want to be a good student and not talk back to teachers, but enough is enough. Talk to McGonagall or Dumbledore, and they'll tell Snape to back off you because of your work." Harry noticed Hermione take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. She licked her lips and bit down a little on her bottom one. "Hermione, what is it?"

"It's not about my work. I don't think it ever was. I think he just used it as an excuse."

"Hermione, what are you getting at?"

"For the past few weeks, ever since I turned sixteen, he's been . . ." Hermione took in more gulps of air to calm her nerves, but suppress the shudders of disgust and exhaustion and the truth finally about to get out.

Harry stared for a few moments, feeling like the Hogwarts Express had suddenly slammed into him. "Hermione," he said slowly, trying not to let his temper get the better of him until he knew exactly what she was saying. "Right now, my mind is jumping to the worst possible conclusion to that sentence. Has Snape been . . .?"

Once more, Hermione slowly nodded. She trembled into herself and turned towards Harry. "Please don't tell anyone. They can't know. I don't want anyone else to know. Tell me I can trust you, Harry. Please."

Harry had barely processed Hermione's desperation as whatever respect he had for the man simply because he was a professor vanished in an instant and was replaced with utter hatred. Harry forced his voice to remain neutral. "Hermione, I swear to you, maybe not tonight, maybe not even this year, but I swear to you . . . I will kill Snape for what he's done to you."

"Harry, please. You can't kill him for that; the proper thing to do is to expose him to the authorities, but I'm sure that's the last thing Hogwarts needs right now, is for their only Potions Master to be accused of rape and imprisoned. It would put a strain on all the teachers, Dumbledore has enough he has to deal with without having to search for a replacement, and we're studying for NEWT exams. There's no doubt Snape knows his material; he's the best in his area of expertise . . ."

Whatever other excuses Hermione had been about to make were cut off when harry couldn't listen to it anymore. "Hermione, stop! This . . . thing . . . that deigns to call itself a man is _molesting_ you. That's not right! You shouldn't have to fear your teachers, you should be able to trust them, and he's a pervert. Who knows how many other girls . . . or guys, for that matter . . . that he's taken advantage of! He needs to be stopped. I'll give you one week to tell Dumbledore, or McGonagall if you're more comfortable talking to her. After that, I'll take of it. _Hermione_," he cupped her head in his hands and waited until she had looked up into his eyes. He brushed the fresh tears away. "I will, from this day forward, take care of you." He would have kissed her then to show her how he felt, but after what she had been through, he figured she needed a comforting hug more. "I love you, Hermione."

He could hear her cry a little harder on his shoulders and they both settled down into the couch. He spooned against her back, wrapping a protective arm around her middle, noticed how fiercely she clung to it. They fell asleep like that, unaware that someone was keeping a watchful pair of eyes on them.

8


End file.
